Seasons
by Bardess of Avon
Summary: Anybodys-centric oneshot. One man in her life for each season of the year.


A/N: I can't even remember how long I've been working on this (actually, that's inaccurate; I started this ages ago and then didn't touch it again until very recently), and I'm finally satisfied with it, so here it is.

Anyway, this fic was all **Vee's** idea, with the idea being that each of the four men Anybodys has ever been in love with represent different seasons of the year. And yes, I know that my obsession with Anybodys is borderline unhealthy (oh, who am I kidding, it's disturbing).

Also, this fic is dedicated to all of the incredible people I have met in the past four years; even though most of them will never see this, they mean more to me than I ever thought they would, and they've taught me so much.

I hope you enjoy, and please let me know your thoughts!

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.

* * *

_Summer_

Every time Anybodys thinks of summer, she thinks of Riff. The two go hand-in-hand, really. Riff and his calm, laid-back easiness, his ability to effortlessly capture the attention of an entire room. Everyone loves Riff, can't wait for him to get there, because nothing happens until Riff is there to make it happen.

Sometimes, if she remembers hard enough, she can remember what it was like to look in his glinting green eyes and feel her stomach twist pleasantly, the way his warm voice would just slide right over her and send a delicious tingle down her spine, how even when he was pushing her away his touch was gentle and how it was never enough. Sometimes, if she tries hard enough, she can believe that the hazy summer breeze is his warm breath.

And just like the memories of summers past, all of Riff's shortcomings fade. She forgets how much his words could sting, how he could upset her quicker than Tony could and how easily he could make her cry without even trying. How he knew what would hurt her and subsequently get her to leave, how the only time he didn't mind her being around was when the chicks were there, and when the chicks _were_ there, Graziella was _always_ hanging off his arm like a damn boa constrictor.

Instead, she only remembers the things that made her fall for Riff in the first place. She remembers how he hardly ever seemed surprised, how he acted as if everything was part of a master plan of his. She remembers how he seemed to genuinely care for all of the Jets, how he had extreme patience with each of them and how he earned their respect instead of intimidating them. They loved him just as much as children loved Santa Claus, all of them willing to do anything that might make him happy.

Most of all, she remembers the calm, almost permanently amused expression on his handsome face, the way his eyes would almost become half-lidded when he was persuading someone. She remembers how while most people speak with their hands, he seemed to speak with his legs; the simple shift of a foot seemed to have a clear meaning behind it that was almost as effective as any words. She remembers how he was one of the predominant reasons she wanted to join the Jets. Even if he only pushed her away again and again, for a few brief moments, she was given his full attention.

But sometimes at night, she wakes up in a cold sweat. His inert corpse haunts her dreams. It's ironic, really, that her most vivid memories of him are the ones after his death. The glimpse she caught of him as she tugged Tony to safety burned itself into her memory, and it scared her as few things did. Riff was her stronghold, her protection, her guide through this fucked-up labyrinth of life, and a world without him had no right to call itself a world.

Riff's death was as abrupt and sudden as the first chilly morning signaling the close of summer and the reign of crisp and bitter autumn. Like a leaf browning with age, he slipped from the branch he was always destined to break from and fell to the ground, only to be buried by other crumbling leaves and swept into obscurity.

_Autumn_

Tony's catharsis was as sudden and miraculous as the turning of the leaves when autumn comes. And though he changed almost completely, Anybodys still found herself in love with him. Maybe it was because she had known him back before the Hawks and the Emeralds hardened him, back when he used to ruffle her hair and joke that she had all the makings of a Jet. That's where it had all started really, her desire to become a Jet; she doubted she'd be half as inclined to join them if Tony hadn't instilled that false hope in her.

Tony had always been the kid on her block that everybody knew and loved. He'd taught Anybodys and Baby John how to play baseball and how to ride a bike without training wheels and how to snap off the cap of a Coke bottle without looking stupid and how to hawk a loogie and how to do the Jet whistle, and somewhere along the way, Anybodys had fallen utterly and hopelessly in love.

He was beautiful to her, something she was constantly in awe of. She discovered new aspects to him every day, in part due to the fact that he seemed to form a new opinion or revise an old one frequently. And yet, despite his ever-changing attitude, he never failed to reserve a smile or a hair-ruffle for Anybodys, and this special attention to her sent her heart soaring. Just like autumn, he was always changing…and to her, always beautiful.

But autumn is also a time of ending, a time of withering and dying. The leaves march majestically and tragically to their deaths, just as Tony's last few hours on this earth were full of life and color and love before the biting cold consumed and killed him. And like the ending of autumn, all color seemed to fade after Tony's death, and Anybodys drowned in a bitter chill.

_Winter_

Ice has his name for a reason; he is cool and firm, and if you're not careful around him, you may regret it later. Anybodys is not at all surprised when, the winter he takes over the Jets, she realizes her heart starts racing around him. She's no stranger to these feelings; it seems she's always meant to fall for the tall and handsome leaders of the Jets. And why shouldn't she? She's only human, and they…to her, _they_ are gods.

Ice is probably the least attainable of them all, even if Anybodys is a Jet now. He's got a girlfriend he's crazy about, and even Anybodys, who is certainly no expert on romance, knows that that is unlikely to ever change. He's not just one of the guys anymore; he's the captain, and he takes this job very seriously—so seriously, in fact, that he becomes cool and distant without even realizing it, and his nickname gains a whole new meaning.

This does not, however, deter Anybodys; the way she's treated has never exactly stopped her before. She knows he could never and will never return her feelings—hell, she even doubts that Ice, intelligent as he is, has figured out that she loves him yet. He manages to keep everyone's tempers, even Action's, in place, but he has no idea that Anybodys feels her spine shiver whenever she thinks of his glacial eyes piercing her. It's probably better this way, she thinks; she has no idea what goes through that sleek, dark-blond head of his, and she has no idea how he would react—would he accept it, or would he just give her the cold shoulder? She can't stand the thought of him pushing her away just when she's gained his respect, and so she keeps her mouth shut and goes to bed cold every night.

Ice leaves with the last remnants of winter, and it leaves Anybodys as cold as if she's buried herself in the snow without a coat. She feels cold and alone and so helpless that it's all she can do to hold on until the chill melts into warmth.

_Spring_

Anybodys discovers in the spring that she is nuts for A-Rab. It makes no sense, none at all, and at first she isn't even really sure it's love; it's so unlike anything she's ever felt for Riff and Tony and Ice. But when his lips are on hers, she finds that she can't get enough of him, and this is certainly something she's never experienced before. _Not_ that she's complaining—she likes this hot and crazy feeling he gives her. She doesn't idolize him in her mind as she did with Riff and Tony and Ice—there are so many things she can pick apart about him—but she doesn't mind in the slightest, particularly when he's got her against a wall and her fingers entangled in his hair, holding on for dear life.

Most importantly, she doesn't feel the need to prove herself to A-Rab. She realizes that she doesn't _have_ to; he likes her just the way she is, and she is absolutely fine with that. It's a new feeling, knowing that there's somebody who _wants_ to walk her home or to school or, hell, _anywhere._ But she likes it. She likes wanting to be around him, and she likes that _he _wants to be around _her._ She starts to understand why Ice and Velma and Big Deal and Clarice and Baby John and Minnie act like saps (but she is never, ever going to admit that. Ever), because A-Rab makes her feel warm and comfortable and just happy to be _alive_.

Anybodys doesn't even notice when spring turns to summer, nor when summer turns to autumn and autumn turns to winter and back to spring. What she does notice, however, is that there is a boy who loves her and whom she loves in return, and that is all that matters.


End file.
